


Recovery

by Fic_finisher (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Come Shot, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Mush, Fucking, Gay Sex, Heartbreak, Kissing, M/M, Pyromania, Relationship Problems, Smut, but it turned out like this, hehe, implied heartbreak, it was supposed to be smut, mild implied pyromania, responsible adult bobby and john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Fic_finisher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief drabble of adult!Bobby and Pyro. There's an unspoken gap between the best frenemies. John wants to bridge it, but can't. Bobby can't let him cross, but he wants to.</p><p>E-rating for Chapter 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stress

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for brief mention of animal abuse (statistically typical for arsonists, it's not my kink or anything), and for mild swearing. Very mild. There's like...two swears. Also, maybe implied relationship abuse. I'm not quite sure.
> 
> This was supposed to be smut. It isn't.

John scowled at the water seeping from the pipes behind the toilet.

He hated plumbing. It made him want to set mice on fire.

Mice really had nothing to do with this. Fire had nothing to do with this. He just hated plumbing and hated mice and really liked fire.

He grumbled at the toilet and shut the bathroom light off, closing the leak inside the room like that would make it go away.

He pissed outside.

Then he got away from the run-down house, figuring if he wasn't there to fix the damned thing, Toad might enslime it so that it stopped leaking and then he wouldn't have to fix it.

He really didn't have any other place to go, he told himself as he stood outside a middle-class house and opened and snapped shut his zippo.

Okay, he was lying. He did have a place to go. He had his notebook and a pen with him, as always, so he could stop into any cafe or park and simply start writing another paperback gothic smut novel. 

But he wasn't standing out here for any particular reason. In fact, he was just about to leave.

Except instead of leaving, he knocked on the door. 

Because he was a freaking idiot.

 _Those are daffodils. Those are nice daffodils. I never noticed that his mom's garden has daffodils._ Again, a total lie. John stared at those daffys every single time he came here. Every damned time.

The door opened, and he was still watching the daffodils quiver in the slight breeze.  
"Uh...John?"

"Yeah?" he said, slowly opening the lighter as if in a trance. Yellow was _such_ a nice color.

"Dude, I can tell you want to set my flowers on fire. It's completely obvious," Bobby crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot like he was completely ticked off.

John looked up abruptly, looked him over. He smirked. "It's really hard to take you seriously when you're covered in pink paint, Iceman."

The guy spread his hands out helplessly. "Come on! I'm helping Mom with a... well-" he got quiet like he did when he knew John would think something was lame.

"Well?"

His shoulders dropped in defeat. "-she's painting a sign pink for a baby shower. I was helping. It's a girl."

Allerdyce started giggling, and it turned into full-blown laughter. Finally, his mood was fixed. "Oh man. You plant her daffys, you paint her things pink, you bake cookies with her. You're adorable, Drake. Your mom's adorable."

Bobby snorted. "You can come in and say hi to her if you like," he stated blandly.

John's ending laughter completely died. "No."

"Right," he said. "I forgot you hate parents."

The fire-wielder felt embarrassed. And angry. "I don't hate parents. I hate mine. I'll see her sometime, seriously. Just not right now." 

"Uh huh," Bobby nodded.

John shrugged. "When are you free?" he said after a pause. "We could...go for lunch or supper or something. Sit in the drive-in theater and watch Star Trek, if you want. Pretty much anything-"

"It's not happening, John," he sighed, glancing away. "I'm just not doing it."

"Doing me, you mean," he punned. "Come on. Just a date. One. Then I'll leave ya be."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, started to speak-

"I'll give you a massage! You love my massages.

"John, I have things to do. Mom needs help. Dad's taking me golfing again before vaca's over. I only have like a week left before it's back to saving the world."

"You hate golf," John pointed out. "You love Star Trek."

"I'm spending time with my parents, Johnny."

John frowned. "Christ, Drake, when did you get so responsible?"

"When I figured out goofing off wasn't working for me, _saint_."

"I don't goof off anymore either," he sulked.

"What job are you at, again?" Bobby said coldly. Punny, ha-ha. "Oh yeah, you don't have one. You're addicted to arson, you're in a terrorist group and you make your money off robberies and penny novels."

John bristled, feeling not only rejected, but now insulted. "Yeah, whatever, Drake," he muttered, turning away and flicking his lighter in irritation. "I didn't really wanna be around you anyway."

\------------

Robert couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Hey."

"Hi, Bobby." John said, slowing to a stop almost hesitantly.

"Where are you headed?" Bobby asked, looking him over. John was actually wearing a suit. A nice suit, with a dress hat and harvest-orange tie and shiny dress shoes. He had a briefcase, too, and luggage piece.

"Australia," he replied, pushing his hat up. It had looked hot, but now he looked dorky. John, of course, thought he looked amazing. "You?"

"Back home. Vacation again, you know?" Bobby said. Man, this was awkward. "...what are you doing in Australia?"

John actually lifted his head in pride. Dork.

"I got a job as a news reporter, writing articles for the Harold Sun." He even sounded proud. "Biggest paper down under. They liked my contributions to the Bugle and my serious works as a science-fiction writer."

Okay, that was a big deal. Wow. Bobby nodded. "That's awesome," he beamed, happy for the other man.

"Thanks," John smiled back, white teeth showing. "The weather's bad on the Pacific right now, though, gotta stay overnight. I've reserved a hotel room. It's a nice hotel...Are you on a schedule, Bobby?"

Bobby grimaced inwardly. Not exactly. He could stay overnight, with John. He missed John... "Yeah. I have to be there in the morning. Mom's going to be driving from the airport."

"Oh," John said, deflated. "Your mum's nice."

"How would you know when you've never met her?" he responded.

"You always say good things about her."

Bobby shifted his weight trying to think of anything else to say.

The Aussie smiled. "Heard you're a teacher now."

Robert nodded. "Yeah. I've been teaching for three years now. Lots of new people."

"Do you like it?" John asked.

"Do you like fire?" he said back, no bite in the bite.

"How come you keep biting at me?"

Robert felt uncomfortable. He shrugged. "Last time we played nice you bit me."

"Last time we played nice we were teenagers, Bobby," John said, guilt written all over him. Iceman watched him palm his pocket. Pyro didn't take his lighter out.

"You bit me. It still hurts."

"What, you want me to apologize? For something I did years ago?"

 _'Yes,'_ Robert thought. He said nothing. He wanted to stay with John. He really did. But it would fuck up his head, ruin his life, and distract the other guy from his newly-found job. It took all his willpower, not to say anything. "You've still got my number and email, right? Let me know when yours change?"

"Yeh," John nodded, shoulders sagged. "I'll let you know."

"Great," he replied. The silence and staring was awkward.

Something was said over the PA.

"That'll be your flight that's boarding, ain't it?" John said.

Bobby swallowed. He missed the hotheaded blond. Missed him so much. _'Why can't you just say it? Two little words. I'm sorry, John, that's all you have to say.'_ "Yeah. See ya."

"Later, alligator."

Robert stayed still. John paused another second, then stepped forward and cupped the other's cheek.

_Noooo, no no n-no, Drake. You can't let him kiss you. Do **not** let him-_

He could have melted on the warmer-blooded man's lips. Figuratively, literally. It was so gentle, so chaste, so...loving.

John used to feel so harsh all the time.

Bobby kissed back, barely. Allerdyce pulled away.

"I miss you, Robert."

And walked past him.

It was all Bobby could do not to follow him.


	2. Khaki Shorts and Skinny Jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The frenemies get together. Cracky smut ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snickers* I did the smut.
> 
> Warnings for...explicit gay smut and everything questionable in the tags. Toodles!

  


\- hey. where do you live now

 

\- Sydney. why?  
\- you sound like you're stalking, bobby. bad boy.

 

\- don't call me that, jerkoff. what's your address 

\------------

Needless to say, John was less than surprised to open the door to Drake less than twelve hours later.

"Ello."

Bobby stood in the doorway, staring at the guy. "You look like a hipster."

Allerdyce looked down at himself. Skinny jeans, T-shirt, scarf, jacket. He pushed a pair of glasses back up his nose. Yeh, he kinda did, didn't he. He shrugged. "It's comfy. It's change."

"You've turned into a total nerd," Drake stated, rolling his eyes.

"You're still wearing Hawaiian shirts, crocs, and khaki shorts, dork," John shot back.

"Jerk."

"Dick."

The two surveyed each other a bit longer.

"What the hell happened to you, John?"

Pyro shrugged. "Rehab?"

Bobby snorted. "Right. Sure."

"Look, you came here," John snapped, crossing his arms. "Whaddaya want?"

"Let me in?" Robert asked. Pyro huffed, but opened the door and stepped aside.  
Wow, this place was...nice...Bobby had to admit. Kindof high-end. Minimalistic, light, with fire-themed decor everywhere. But way, _way_ too hot, just like the rest of Australia.

"Are you going through, like...a mid-life crisis or something?" Bobby asked, re-examining John.

"I'm twenty-six, Drake. No where near mid-life. I'm just tryin' different things, that's all," he shrugged.

"Right," he nodded, flopping down on the guy's couch. "Your accent got stronger."

"Heh. Guess so."

Robert groaned and turned onto his stomach, grabbing a throw-pillow and burying his face in it. He sighed, then looked up. "You're not going to be the same."

John raised a brow, discarding his glasses and scarf. "Same as what?"

"Same as you were. Like all...troublemaking and stuff. 'Hey, Bobby, c'mon get a tattoo,' and 'c'mon I wanna set a peace sign on fire and I need you to make sure a field doesn't catch fire.'"

"Did you get a tatt?" John smirked.

Bobby snorted. "No."

"Heh. Yella'belly."

"Dick."

"Jerk." John looked at him. "I just can't be right, can I?"

Drake frowned. "Huh?"

John frowned back. "I cleaned up for ya, Bobby. Now you want me to go back ta bein' messy."

Robert's chest ached. He'd figured the change was because of that. He sat up and leaned over the back of the couch, grabbing John's shirt and pulling the other man close. "I like you any way you are, Johnny, and I want to fuck you and make up for all those stupid times we missed because I was being a prick and you were being a terrorist."

John held the back of Bobby's neck, forehead almost pressed against the other man's, and then pushed him away, walking into the kitchen. "Fuck off, Ice. You got horny and don't have anyone to help ya out. That's all."

"Johhhhhnny," Bobby whined, following him in. "That's not all. I want you. I have, I just...I got stuck in my own pain."

The journalist looked down. "Never said sorry for that, Ice."

Drake froze in place. Was he finally going to-?

"I shouldn't have."

"Wow," he breathed, relaxing around John for the first time in years. "John, it's okay. Thank you."

Pyro looked up at him. "Can't touch you, Bobby. Not when that happened."

He shook his head, pulling John over by the collar of his stupid hipster jacket. "Yes you can. I trust you. I want you. And I know you won't do it again. You don't hate me anymore."

John hooked his arms around his waist, staring down into those cool blue eyes. He wanted to say something. He had nothing to say. So he leaned down kissed Bobby, their lips clashing and moving ferociously, to make up for lost time. Bobby moaned much louder and more enthusiastically than any kiss called for, which John always found slightly annoying - and John tongued into Bobby's mouth in the sloppy wet, forceful way that Robert had occasionally found gross.

"Oh god, John," Bobby moaned, when his partner pulled away with a bite to his lip. "I missed you."

John gave an unruly smirk and licked his own lip. "I missed _you._ " He pressed against Bobby's lips, loving their fullness, the cool clack of teeth, the familiar feel and taste and the moans that he was met with. John groaned, remembering those pretty lips around his dick and pretty eyes looking up at him, smiling.

Bobby kissed back, pushing his tongue and body against those of other guy's. "John...Fuck me?" he groaned, pulling his hair.

John gasped at the pleasure/pain sensation, and pushed his hips against Bobby's. "I won't be able to if you keep holding onto that." He hooked his fingers in the waistband of those ridiculous khaki shorts, pushing Bobby up against the kitchen counter.

Robert kissed him again, scratching John's scalp and then pulling back, bracing his hands behind him on the counter. "Thought we'd do it on the bed?" he said.

"We will," John smirked, pulling down his partner's shorts. "But we're doing it here first because I ain't movin' to a whole goddamned different room."

"Lube's in the bottom right pocket, then," Bobby supplied helpfully.

"So that _is_ why ya came here, eh?" Pyro smirked and waggled his brows. "You wanted sexy times with your favorite arsonist."

Robert kicked off his crocs while John pulled down the shorts and got the lube. "That's not the _only_ thing I want," he grinned, pulling John into yet another kiss and moaning."

"Mm. Movin' right in, are we?" Johnny smirked. "Turn around, Drake," he commanded, eyes darkening with lust like they used to.

Bobby felt unsafe for just a moment, but then remembered the apology. He turned around and stuck his behind out, watching John over his shoulder.

The Aussie pulled down the other guy's briefs to around the knees, and uncapped the lube. He paused. "How many guys have you done this with since me?"

Robert flushed for a sec. "Two."

John raised a brow. "Who? Or don't I wanna know?"

"Uh..." he hesitated. "Pietro."

His mouth dropped. " _Pietro?_ Was that a jealousy thing? A rub-in-my-face thing? Oh my god, Robbie, do you know what that guy _did_ to me?"

"It was just one time!" he protested. "The guy's a jerk. It sucked. Seriously."

"God. Who else?"

"Ummm..." Bobby looked away and pressed his forehead against the counter. "Northstar," he just about squeaked.

That was a giggle. Behind him. John was cackling.

 _"Johnny!"_ Drake groaned, flushing furiously.

"Eh-heh...heh..." John started to get it under control, and then burst out again, until his eyes were wet. "Beaubier? S-seriously?" he choked and laughed.

"John, I'm standing here with my ass naked and waiting for fucking and you're laughing about my ex-boyfriend."

"Ehhheh...woah, ex-boyfriend?" that stopped him in his tracks. "Like...dating...boyfriend? He bought you flowers and chocolates and stuffed teddy bears?"

" _Yesss_ , goddammit, John, we dated for like six months and it was so sappy and romantic it could've gone in one of your books. Okay? And it actually did me some good. It helped me realize it wasn't my fault. Now could you just-" Bobby said quickly, ending by wiggling his butt a bit.

"Yeh, I guess I can live with knowing Beaubier fucked my best friend and partner," he consented, slicking a pair of fingers with lube and pressing them against Bobby's hole. "Ready for incoming?" he smirked, rolling the 'r'...it didn't sound quite right followed by the heavy Australian accent, but neither of them cared.

 _"Yes!"_ he groaned, and then gripped the counter and gasped when the two fingers pushed in gradually up to the second knuckle. John paused there and Bobby moaned, clenching and unclenching around the other man's digits. "Holy hell, Py...I didn't forget that you-" he groaned when John scissored his fingers. "-the way you did it...just...it feels so much _better_ than I remember..."

John breathed out, satisfied, and pulled the two fingers all the way out, coating them again and pushing them back in to exactly the same spot. He leaned over Bobby and kissed his neck. "The real thing's better than a memory," he wiggled his fingers and heard the other whimper and sigh.

John reached under Bobby as his fingers worked deeper, scissoring and twisting, in and out, to give the other man's cock a firm stroke. Robert tensed deliciously and his hips jutted forward even as John pulled his hand away.

"Holy-" he hissed, feeling a third digit press against his hole. He shook his head. "Forget that, Johnny," he panted, "Just go already. Please."

"If you're sure," John crooned in a way that irritated and turned on his partner at the same time. He pulled his fingers out and heard Bobby whine at the loss, watched him move that perfect ass. The Aussie pulled down his jeans - skinnies were hell for this - and lubed himself up quickly, pressing against his partner's hole.

"Jesus Christ, you got bigger," Bobby panted.

Pyro snorted. "It _has_ been like, ten years, Bobby."

"Ugh...in. Now," he groaned, biting his lip.

"Hands. Gimme your hands," John said. He pinned Bobby's hands behind his back and pulled on them as he pushed himself in. The first few moments he just breathed, eyes closed and flames dancing across his lids, savoring the sensation of wet, silky heat and the sound of Robert's moans.

"Dude. If you don't budge I'll-" Bobby couldn't think of a good threat. Stuff your face with twinkies? Who would complain about that?

"Yeh, yeh. I'll get to it," Pyro groaned, but he did start moving almost right away, hips jutting forward and cock shoving deeply into his hole. "God, Robbie..." he bit into Bobby's shoulder and thrust heavily.

"J-john," Robert gasped, groaning practically every thrust. "Fuck. I wanna- wanna look at you," he moaned.

John rested his forehead on Drake's back, then pulled out and turned the other guy around. Robert hung onto his neck and wrapped his legs about his waist, staring into his partner's eyes and swallowing. John lined up and thrust in, staring back, wondering how they'd refused to do this for ten years - of course it was his own damned fault, but rhetorically.

His thrusts hit at a better angle, because Bobby was moaning louder and practically groaning, cock pulsing up at each movement. John started to sweat, fucking into the other man with fervor and desire, coming closer and closer to climax...

He stopped and kissed Bobby again, resuming partway through the kiss. It was wet, and messy, and hot as fuck, especially when Robert groaned loudly into the kiss and his come spurted over his chest and against his neck - John wished they were filming so he could see the cumshot, but oh well. He smirked as Robert rode his high, and pulled from the kiss to lick and suck the cum from his neck. His own movements became faster and he forgot control, just thrusting and jerking until he came inside Bobby, filling his partner's ass with cum.

"God, John," Robert moaned, loving the hot wet feeling and the cock still in his ass. "God I missed you."

John laughed lightly. "Likewise. I wanna get out of you without losing that cum, so...we're going to the floor and then you're going to stay there, ass-up, until I've either eaten you out or stuck a plug in there. Okay?"

"Oh, _fuuuck_ ," Bobby groaned, nodding. "You're so fucking hot, John. And bossy." He pouted. "You're always so bossy."

"Heh. Ya gotta love it," John gave a crooked smirk, kissing Robert's nose.

"Mm. I do."


End file.
